i am free…repeat…i am free…

The following is a stream of associations following from the image above. Enjoy.

Today in Libya and Egypt and so many other places it is the people against the military state. This is resistance.

Fight Club. Underneath the hip…the putrefaction of a bleak affluence and sedated middle class life stares back with burned out eyes:

American Beauty. A failed attempt to dive beneath the feel good and show the putrid undersurface. Wanting to show ugly truths about ourselves, the temptation to deliver Hollywood feelgood is insurmountable, even in desperation to do otherwise.

Resistance again. Like the Libyans dying today…when there is nothing, there is a body. But consciousness is resistance.

Ain’t Got No …/ I Got Life (lyrics for the live version performed at the Harlem Festival, New York, 1969)

Ain’t got no home
Ain’t got no shoes
Ain’t got no money
Ain’t got no class
Ain’t got no friends
Ain’t got no schoolin’
Ain’t got no work
Ain’t got no job
Ain’t got no money
No place to stay

Ain’t got no father
Ain’t got no mother
Ain’t got no children
Ain’t got no sisters or brothers
Ain’t got no earth
Ain’t got no faith
Ain’t got no church
Ain’t got no god
Ain’t got no love

Ain’t got no wine
No cigarrettes
No clothes
No country
No class
No schoolin’
No friends
No nothing
Ain’t got no god
Ain’t got (one more)

Ain’t got no earth
No water
No food
No home
I said I ain’t got no clothes
No job
No nothing
Ain’t got long to live
And I ain’t got no love

Oooooh.. But what have I got?
Aaaaah.. What have I got?
Let me tell you what I’ve got
That nobody is gonna take away
Unless I wanna

I got my hair on my head
My brains
My ears
My eyes
My nose
And my mouth
I’ve got my smile

I got my tongue
My chin
My neck
My boobbies
My heart
My soul
And my back
I’ve got my sex

I’ve got my arms
My hands
My fingers
My legs
My feet
My toes
And my liver
I’ve got my blood

I’ve got life
I’ve got lifes
I’ve got headaches and toothaches
And bad times too, like you

I’ve got my hair
My head
My brains
My ears
My eyes
My nose
And my mouth
I’ve got my smile
And it’s my smile

I got my tongue
My chin
My neck and my boobbies
My heart
My soul
And my back
I’ve got my sex, yeah !

I got my arms
My hands
My fingers
My legs
My feet
My toes
I’ve got my liver
I’ve got my blood

I’ve got life
I’ve got my freedom
And my heart
I’ve got life

Resistance part II. In Iraq and Afghanistan we kill people. For what?

As we spend on bombs and killing machines, we cut spending on programs for the poor, the hungry, the uneducated. Times are tough, when you spend all the money on wars.

Today, Madison resists. Resist, America. Phil Ochs.

Oh I marched to the battle of New Orleans
At the end of the early British war
The young land started growing
The young blood started flowing
But I ain’t marchin’ anymore

For I’ve killed my share of Indians
In a thousand different fights
I was there at the Little Big Horn
I heard many men lying I saw many more dying
But I ain’t marchin’ anymore

chorus)
It’s always the old to lead us to the war
It’s always the young to fall
Now look at all we’ve won with the saber and the gun
Tell me is it worth it all

For I stole California from the Mexican land
Fought in the bloody Civil War
Yes I even killed my brothers
And so many others But I ain’t marchin’ anymore

For I marched to the battles of the German trench
In a war that was bound to end all wars
Oh I must have killed a million men
And now they want me back again
But I ain’t marchin’ anymore

(chorus)

For I flew the final mission in the Japanese sky
Set off the mighty mushroom roar
When I saw the cities burning I knew that I was learning
That I ain’t marchin’ anymore

Now the labor leader’s screamin’
when they close the missile plants,
United Fruit screams at the Cuban shore,
Call it “Peace” or call it “Treason,”
Call it “Love” or call it “Reason,”
But I ain’t marchin’ any more,
No I ain’t marchin’ any more

Bob Dylan via The Roots. Resist harder. Resist more.

Come you masters of war
You that build the big guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks.

You that never done nothin’
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it’s your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly.

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain.

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion’
As young people’s blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud.

You’ve thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain’t worth the blood
That runs in your veins.

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I’m young
You might say I’m unlearned
But there’s one thing I know
Though I’m younger than you
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do.

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul.

And I hope that you die
And your death’ll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I’ll watch while you’re lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I’ll stand over your grave
‘Til I’m sure that you’re dead.

Resist harder, Part II

The movie ran through me
The glamour subdued me
The tabloid untied me
I’m empty please fill me
Mister anchor assure me
That Baghdad is burning
Your voice it is so soothing
That cunning mantra of killing
I need you my witness
To dress this up so bloodless
To numb me and purge me now
Of thoughts of blaming you
Yes the car is our wheelchair
My witness your coughing
Oily silence mocks the legless boys
Who travel now in coffins
On the corner
The jury’s sleepless
We found your weakness
And it’s right outside your door

Now testify
Now testify
It’s right outside your door
Now testify
Yes testify
Its right outside your door

With precision you feed me
My witness I’m hungry
Your temple it calms me
So I can carry on
My slaving sweating the skin right off my bones
On a bed of fire I’m choking on the smoke that fills my home
The wrecking ball is rushing
Witness your blushing
The pipeline is gushing
While here we lie in tombs
While on the corner
The jury’s sleepless
We found your weakness
And it’s right outside your door

Now testify
Yeah testify
It’s right outside your door
Now testify
Now testify
It’s right outside your door

Mass graves for the pump and the price is set
And the price is set
Mass graves for the pump and the price is set
And the price is set
Mass graves for the pump and the price is set
And the price is set
Mass graves for the pump and the price is set
And the price is set

Who controls the past now controls the future
Who controls the present now controls the past
Who controls the past now controls the future
Who controls the present now?

Now testify
Testify
It’s right outside your door
Now testify
Testify
It’s right outside your door

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This entry was posted in Social critique in culture, Struggle and Revolution!. Bookmark the permalink.

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